


Calais

by rosebud666



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera - Gaston Leroux, Phantom of the Opera (2004), Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber
Genre: Alternate Ending, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Gratuitous Smut, Mild Smut, My First Smut, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:14:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23736682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosebud666/pseuds/rosebud666
Summary: Christine did not kiss Erik that night and goes with him to their new life together as husband and wife in Calais. (E/C, not a songfic, mature content including sexual themes)
Relationships: Christine Daaé & Erik | Phantom of the Opera, Christine Daaé/Erik | Phantom of the Opera
Comments: 31
Kudos: 97





	1. The Long Walk

**Author's Note:**

> This is originally posted on my Fanfiction account. I am translating a bunch of stuff from there to here. It jumps in right at the end of the movie or musical, but I like to try to write with historical references so I bring in a lot of what I think Christine's religion would have been (Catholic) which has been really interesting and fun for me to write since I'm not particularly religious but love learning about other peoples religious. There are some steamy moments that I'll put warning up at the beginning of the chapter for people to be aware of. This chapter is smut free so enjoy haha!

"You try my patience make your choice." He yanked on the rope one more time sending Raoul's eyes to bulge and his face to grow redder. Raoul looked at Christine nodding offering her the courage to declare him dead. Letting him die in exchange for her freedom was as decision for cowards though, and Christine despite her tears and naivety was no coward.

Christine blindly took hold of the tulle that bulged out from her waist as she took a few seconds to take in every feature of her love's face as she knew she would not be seeing him again after she gave her answer. The phantom's heavy breathing and wild eyes were willing her to hurry with her answer.

She released her dress and intertwined her finger in front of her.

"I will go with you," she nearly whispered "husband." He tightened his grasp on the rope before letting it drop into the water.

"Christine," Raoul choke out as strongly as he could. She could see him starting to struggle against the ropes out of the corner of her eye as the menacing figure in the water approached her. His movements were so slow she swore that he was going to pounce on her like a cat does to its toy. She started to shake the closer he came. Her tears were still in full swing and she did not want to stop them. There was a part of her that wanted him to see the suffering he was causing her.

He had reached the shore of the lake and reached his hand to her waist oddly gently. He himself seemed to have gained back a portion of his control. He guided her away from the water to stand by the altar in front of his organ. Raoul's voice was growing stronger and he was not screaming and lashing against the gate.

The phantom took one of the thick-stemmed iron candle-holders and blew the candle out atop of it. Christine was confused as he removed the candle itself from the holder and placed it down where the holder had been. Then quickly and with a grimace he drew back the holder and swung it at a covered mirror. Christine flinched and moved backward fearing he was going to hit her.

Instead he dropped the holder with a clang and swung the curtain open to reveal a hallway that was just past the mirror. He looked to Christine and with a deep breath through his open mouth he held his hand up to her and threatened her with just his eyes of what would happen should she not take his hand. Her chin quivered and her hand shook as she took the few steps forward and took his hand. He guided her just past the mirror and let the drape drop back to its original position.

On their prior excursions through the underground of the opera there had always been a few torches lit along the way and he himself had always had a torch of his own to help guide her way. This time the only light that was available was the dim candle lit cave just under the hem of the curtain.

This light was also extinguished as he pulled roughly on a sliding slab of stone. Christine grew panicked knowing that shortly she would be encased in complete darkness with the only man she had met in her life that more closely resembled the devil than the depictions that were shown in her religious texts. She stepped back and touched her fingers to the cool damp walls of the hallway.

He grunted one last time and he pushed the sliding wall to a close. She could still hear the muted sound of Raoul's screaming and now sobbing. Trusting that she could not be seen in the pitch black, she brought her hand to her mouth as she felt a lump in her throat well up that crying could not even release.

Quickly enough her other hand was grasped from her side. She gasped as she was guided forward in the complete darkness. The further she walked the fainter and fainter Raoul's voice grew and she knew that those cries of her name were the last moments she would ever have any contact with him. She was being taken away from her love and her future. She could see no future with the man that was dragging her away from everything she had planned. Everything with him was unknown. Where would they go? How would they have income? Would they have children? Would he expect her to?

She stopped suddenly at the last question that passed through her head as the fear had taken control of her. He dropped her hand and she strained in the dark to see where he was. She sniffled as she panicked at the thought that he had left her alone in the darkness.

She was swept up suddenly and she let out a small audible gasp. When had he snuck behind her, or had she turned around?

He started to walk with her until her senses returned to her. She shimmied around in his arms trying to get him to let her down. He tightened his hold.

"Still," he commanded. His voice was not soft but was not fueled with the pure rage that had taken over him just minutes before. She pulled her hand back and smacked him around where she thought his face was and surely enough came into direct contact with the healthy side of his face. He stopped in his tracks.

"An executioner does not carry his victim to the guillotine; you shall not carry me to my doom."

He dropped her down from his arms. She placed her hand out to the wall to steady herself. He grabbed her upper arm roughly and moved on through the dark with a quicker pace this time than they had before.

They walked for what felt like hours but in truth she could not tell. He never slowed in his quick pace and by the time they had began to slow she knew that the moment she had the opportunity to sleep and rest her sore feet she would gladly take it.

They halted suddenly causing her to scuffle for the wall for balance. He let go of her arm and walked forward. She could hear him shifting around and clanging on something. She could faintly see sparks until a torch erupted into flames. She squinted trying to have her eyed adjust to the sudden burst of light. She looked away from the light and turned to observe the small room that they were now in.

There were several trunks and two passageways guiding to and from the room that they had entered. If she was being honest she didn't know from which they had just come. Throwing propriety to the wind she sat down on top of one of the trunks while he closed off one of the passageways. She assumed now that this was the one from which they had just entered the room from. He clicked a few locks together then quickly turned to the trunk closest to him. He would not make eye contact with her yet, but she could see the tenseness in his jawline.

After fumbling around he found what he was looking for. He pulled a mirror and a clump of beige looking clay out from the trunk. He started to smear the mold onto his face, covering the horrible scars and indentations. After a few minutes of prodding his face looked as closely to a symmetrical face as she believed he could ever get. It was nowhere near perfect; at best he looked as if he had been burned slightly in a war or some sort of accident. He seemed to think so as well and threw the mold back into the trunk.

Next he pulled out another black wig and placed it gently onto his head using the mirror. He looked nearly human now. He reached in again and pulled out a suit and two jackets. He held out the one light blue long jacket to Christine. She took it and gladly slid it on thankful for the warmth that she didn't realize she needed. He was now staring at her deliberately holding his change of clothing.

Christine took the hint and turned around. She looked down at the furry cuffs of her sleeves and gently stroked it. Her thoughts felt muffled. She was sure that the events of the day had left her exhausted as well as shocked. She felt now as if she were just going through motions.

After a few minutes a gloved hand passed her a pair of her own white gloves. She took them and slid them onto her chilled hands. Finally she was passed a few pins for her hair. She sighed in relief and turned around to take use of the mirror he had. He held it up for her and watched her intently as she pulled her hair simply out of her face as best she could. She finished and returned to her seated position.

He stayed put and continued to admire her. She did not see it but for a moment a glimmer of remorse passed through his face. He reached a gloved hand out and gently touched the backside of his hand to her face. The moment the hairs of her face could feel the black leather approaching she jumped to her feet and stood at the doorway that was still left open. The remorse was replaced again with the cold anger. He threw the mirror back into the trunk that shattered on impact.

He positioned a top hat onto his head and took hold of two suitcases. He passed by her through the doorway and led the way continuing on the long dark path.

This time he was not able to physically guide her through the underground and she was forced to use her ears to locate him and follow in the dark. The walk was much shorter this time than she expected. They quickly ceased. He set down the suitcases and opened another door that she had not thought was there.

She had expected to see the morning daylight but she was instead greeted with pale moonlight and simply brighter darkness. She did not recognize the area they were in. She could hear simple tavern music playing somewhere close by and the smell of polluted water wafted toward her. She stepped past the threshold of the underground and stepped into the town.

She looked around confused until the phantom walked past her. She followed him closely after hearing the drunken laughter of a close by man. They walked only a short way until they reached a stable. A single lantern was lit near an already prepared covered carriage. The horses were already tied and started to move as they approached. The phantom placed the cases on the back luggage carrier before opening the door for her and holding out a hand.

The hairs on her neck stood up on edge. This was it. She was disappearing. She could not bring herself to take his hand and willingly place herself into the carriage. He did not push her and he made no movement.

She swallowed and opened her mouth to speak staring into the deep red velvet seat of the carriage.

"Where will we be going?"

"Calais," his voice was stern but not cruel. He did not wish to frighten her at this moment.

Christine closed her eyes and sighed before climbing into the cabby with his help. This was her fate and she convinced herself for the time being that this was all a part of God's plan for her and she would perciveer.

She sat down in the carriage and rested her head against the side of the coach. She closed her eyes for but a moment, however, the second the coach jostled into movement she knew that she would not sleep for many hours.


	2. Canaples

Christine willed herself to watch the sunrise, after which she fell fast asleep despite the bumpy conditions of the road and the horrors of the day and of her future that plagued her thoughts.

Around midday she awoke as the carriage halted. She looked out the window and found that they stopped at a quaint stable in a small town. The door opened and she found herself staring not at the man she had just awoken from a nightmare about, but instead a jolly, old, fat man that had a large smile on his face.

"Hello there, love! Welcome to Canaples!"

Christine almost cried from the kind man. She thankfully took his hand as he helped her out of the carriage. Another chubby woman wearing an apron and a shawl around her smiled and waved to her from the side.

"How was your journey, sweet? It's such a long way from Reims, you must be exhausted." Christine looked around for the man who had put her through the long treacherous night. She spotted him removing the horses from the carriage and guiding them over to water troughs. "And all that travel on the day of your wedding!" His eyes slowly traveled over to her not halting in his actions. They linked eyes in a silent threat. She would cry but she had no energy, nor tears left to spill. "Come inside now and I will fix you something to eat before you starve yourself." The woman hurried over to Christine and rushed her inside.

Christine looked around the simple inn and took a seat at the table after giving her coat and gloves to the woman.

"Now, what can I get you? We have some nice hot stews and I just baked some hearty pies as well this morning." Christine shook her head.

"If I could have just a warm cup of tea I would greatly appreciate it." The woman smiled pushing her lips together tightly.

"Cold feet? I had the same trouble the day of my wedding. God knows I didn't want to be stuck with that bumble head out there for the rest of my life." The woman shrugged and laughed for a moment, "but He doesn't always give you what you want, He gives you what you need." She kissed her fingers and tapped the crucifix that she had hanging on the wall as she ran into the kitchen.

Christine sat in the silence of the room and slouched ungracefully into her seat. She would be married today. She had not expected the sudden statement and was frankly stunned. The sleep had seemed to make her only number than she had felt the night before. The door opened and she felt her hair prickle at the sight of the amber eyes.

He removed his hat and placed it on the stand close by shortly followed by his jacket and gloves placed into the pocket. He kept his eyes locked on her as he seated himself across the table from her. There were several more moments of silence until he pulled out and object from his pocket and slid it across the table to her.

He removed his hand to reveal a simple yet elegant engagement ring. The single stone in the middle was more marvelous than any of the several that decorated the ring that Raoul had given her. Her lip quivered yet still she had no tears. She brought her fingernails up to her mouth and bit for a moment before sighing and removing the ring that bound her to her love and replaced it with the ring that bound it to her captor. The ring fit perfectly yet she felt the weight of it as if it were several pounds heavier than her prior.

They sat in silence for a short while longer. He never took his eyes off of her the entirety of the silence.

"At the very least, is there a name I may know of my husband?" Christine finally asked. His eyes drifted off a past her shoulder.

"Erik," his rich voice rumbled. She wondered if it was truly his name or yet another deception.

"And what name will I be taking?" He shifted at this question.

"Destler; your name will be Christine Destler." Christine held her hand out on the table and stared at her hand carrying the beautiful stone. A second of wonder let her explore the world in which things had gone differently: a world in which 'Erik' had been a regular man who shared her passion of music and not a murderer. If he had controlled his cruelty she believed that she truly could have loved him. That experience with his mask had been what changed their relationship. She would never deny that his face was in fact horrid, yet she had felt more terrified of his rage than his face. If he had not thrown her to the ground, had not thrown harmful words of wrath at her she might have been able to show him that his face did not matter in matters of love.

She laid her hand flat on the table. Her thoughts had wondered to far into matters that she did not want to think of. She could not love him and she would not think thoughts that would suggest that she did. She brought her eyes back up to his which had never left her.

"I thought we were going to Calais?"

"We will be there by late night. We are just stopping to-"

"Be wed," Christine cut him off. She felt irate but softened when she noticed his eyes shift down to his gloved hands. She didn't feel bad for him for putting them both in their situation, yet she did feel something that made her want to comfort the guilt he was surely experiencing. She knew her empathy was one of her best and worst qualities.

She looked at him more closely. He had not slept in what looked like a few days. He was obviously tired as well from the events of the day prior as well as from driving the carriage through the night into midday.

"We can't rest here just for a day?" She watched him raise his face back to her. He was gentler now than he had been since before the incident.

"We will be leaving Canaples right after the ceremony. You may rest as long as you wish when we reach Calais." He raised his hand up onto the table and ever so gently just slightly stroked her hand gently with his relaxed fingers. Christine allowed the affection to happen despite her anger toward him. She needed a kind gesture.

"Here you go sweetie!" The cheery woman ran out with a hot cup of tea for Christine. Christine sat back up straight with proper posture and took the warm drink to her lips. Erik pulled a watch from his pocket to check the time.

"Would you like me to get you anything?" The woman smiled at Erik who simply shook his head 'no.' "Alright then, I will have a pie ready to go for you when you leave so you can at least have a hearty meal on the road." Erik grimaced a smile and passed her some money out of his pocket.

Erik and Christine left the inn not long after she had finished her cup of tea. They hopped into a different carriage this time with different horses and parted from the stables. Christine leaned her head back against the back of the carriage. She wanted nothing more than to run out of the moving carriage and run away on her own.

The fear of living the remainder of her life with this man welled up within her. She would forever be under his control. His voice would always be haunting her in the morning when she began the day and in the evening when she ended it. His eyes would permanently be following her. She would never be free of him. She wanted to say that it was his murderous tendencies that scared her most of all but it was simply the fact that he haunted her mind. His eyes on her felt like he was setting her skin afire wherever they passed on her skin. His voice made her feel like she would do whatever it was he asked and she thoroughly believe he used it to hypnotize her.

In her panic she failed to realize their approach to a catholic church. The carriage stopped and Christine brought a quivering hand up to her mouth. She pressed her knuckles against her lips when the bright light of the afternoon sun rushed onto her face. A hand was again placed out toward her.

She did not take it and instead placed her hands upon her eyes. She remembered the screams Raoul had let out and his gasps for steady breath as he had fought for her freedom. He had not thought of himself for a moment during his quest for her. She released her hands from her eyes and took hold of Erik's.

They walked hand in hand into the church. It was a simple country church with only a single person sitting in the pews. Christine halted when they reached the first pew. Shaking, she removed the buttons of her coat and was assisted with removing it. She slowly removed each of her gloves and placed them gently in the pocket of the jacket that was now lying on the pew. He had also removed his hat, gloves and topcoat and was now left in a surprisingly modern suit. Erik left her side to walk up the aisle as an elderly man walked in from a door to her right. He was blind and used a cane to help him determine his movements. When he reached the middle aisle he ceased and held his hand out.

"Hello, dear," his voice was soft and sweet and she was glad to have a kind soul present with her at the moment. She took hold of his hand, which he then guided to the crook of his arm. This man was to give her away: a complete stranger. Christine walked with the man careful not to go too fast. A priest was already standing at the alter, whom she came to notice was wearing a blindfold over his eyes. She looked to the person in the pews and found them to also be blindfolded. He had thought through every detail, no one would know what would have come of her.

Christine and the man reached the front of the church. She finally made eye contact with Erik. He was stepping forward to take her hand. The elderly man retracted away and found a seat. Christine breathed unevenly and reached her hand out to make contact with his naked hand. She felt her heart lurch at the mixture of their hands touching and at the intense gaze he held onto her.

He took in every inch of her. His gaze was not the demanding, seducing one he had placed on her during the performance but instead reminded her of the one they shared when he had come with demands for the managers. It was odd that she began to feel comforted as he stared at her so.

They both kneeled in front of the priest. She bowed her head and quickly prayed for courage.

The ceremony was not the full-length mass that she had expected. There were only a few prayers before the priest announced that they would be exchanging vows.

"I ask you now; have you come here freely, without reservation to give yourselves to each other in marriage?"

"We have," both Erik and Christine said in unison looking for each others eyes out of the corner of their own. Christine's breath wavered after her words came out of her mouth.

"Will you love and honor each other as husband and wife for the rest of your lives?"

"We will."

"Will you accept children lovingly from God and bring them up according to the laws of Christ?"

"We will," Christine spoke first and was followed by Erik's softer declaration. This time she fully looked toward him as he was already staring at her.

"You have declared your consent before God," Christine shut her eyes at this, "now with your hands joined, declare that consent." Christine fought the desire to faint and held her hands out for Erik to hold.

"I, Erik, take you Christine to be my wife. I promise to be true to you in good times and bad, in sickness and in health." Erik gently stroked her hand with his own before he continued with a deeper yet softer voice, "I will love you and honor you all the days of my life."

"I, Christine take you Erik to be my husband." She paused not knowing, in her rush of adrenaline, the next vow. The priest shifted before guiding her.

"I promise to be true to you in good times and bad, in sickness and in health," she paused again. This time she did know the vow the only objection she faced was that she wondered if she could hold true to this next vow in any way possible. She would not make a vow to her God without being certain that she could stand by it. She truthfully was not certain that she could ever come to fully love this man as her husband. She had thought of Raoul and how easily she could have made this vow in God's presence, but then… She did not know for certain if the love she had for Raoul was that for a husband. She undeniably loved him as her friend, but she had never wanted his affection to be displayed to her after the night on the roof. His touch was comforting until it reached an intimate level and then she would shy away. The priest repeated himself a second time helping to refocus Christine back to Erik who was staring at her with a small glimmer of hope.

"I will love you and honor you all the days of my life."

Christine did not break her eye contact with Erik as they waited for the priest to bless the rings. Her mind felt confused. She knew that what this man had forced her to do was quite clearly wrong and sinful, however she wondered if her marriage to him would not be quite as horrendous as she had imagined.

Erik placed a golden ring onto her finger reciting words she did not listen to. She was much to concerned now with her own thoughts than her own wedding.

She followed in the motions he had performed on her and was guided in her speech again by the priest.

The priest laid his stole across their held hands.

"May I guide you as one; father, son and Holy Ghost, make you one, forever and ever. Amen." They were wed. The point of no return had not occurred back in the cavern but was here at this moment. She bound by God to him. She made vows to love and honor him.

Christine did not comprehend the rest of the ceremony. She blindly accepted the body and blood and closed her eyes before she could see a man who had just recently attempted murder accept the body and blood.

Once again they kneeled together as the priest said one final prayer over them wishing them health, happy years, children and grandchildren.

"With pride and joy, I present Madam and Monsieur Destler." The blind man clapped alone in the spacious church.

Christine stood and was guided briefly over to a book that the priest had brought over. Inside a sheet of paper and quill were lying for them to each sign along with the witnesses. Erik guided each of their hands to the spot where they were to sign. Christine was the last to sign the paper before Erik took it.

Slowly they both left the church. He let Christine into the carriage before he closed the church doors. She watched him as he ran back to the carriage and felt the movement of him climbing onto the drivers seat. She heard the crack of the reigns followed by the wedding bells that grew fainter with ever passing second.


	3. By the Sea

Christine did not sleep for a moment in the carriage despite her exhaustion. The carriage only stopped once for them to stretch their legs and relieve themselves at a small tavern. Christine did not venture far from Erik when they had stopped. She did not particularly enjoy the rambunctious company on this day.

As he helped her back into the carriage she stopped him before he shut the door.

"How much longer will we be riding for?"

"We will arrive in a few more hours." Christine looked up at the already moonlit sky.

"Will it be morning when we arrive?"

"It will be late night, you may rest as soon as we arrive," Christine looked at his still heavy eyes.

"Don't you need rest, you have been awake all through the night." Erik smiled only simply before closing the door without a word. Again she felt the carriage shift from his climbing into the drivers seat.

She did not close her eyes for a moment. Despite that the ride was at the very least four hours she wished it had gone on longer. The sea came into her view. She could see the twinkling reflection the moon cast onto the tips of waves. They road along a path that laid next to the sea for only an hour longer before the carriage came to a stop. Christine moved over to the other seat so that she could see the house that they had pulled up to.

The house was beautiful. It appeared to be a three-story mansion. There were large window and a huge garden that spanned from the side and appeared to travel to the back of the house. The shore looked as if it were only a mile or less away down a path that led out from the garden. She thought that this would be a very beautiful place to spend the night at had it not been for her wedding night.

The door swung open. Christine took her husband's hand and descending down onto the ground. The air was crisp and carried the sea to her nose. She shivered before accepting Erik's help to guide her to the inn.

"Will the innkeepers be awake so late?" Christine whispered when they reached the steps to the porch.

"This is no inn, this is our home." Christine chilled. She was swept up again into Erik's arms as he carried her up the stairs and in through the front doors, which a silent man was holding open. She was set down as her senses came about her. The man at the door removed her coat and took her gloves. Erik also handed his coat and gloves to the man.

Christine looked around the entrance. There was a chandelier hanging just a few feet in front of her with gorgeous cascades of crystal. The stairs were lined with rich red carpet. And the carpet beneath she could already tell was soft to the touch despite her heeled shoes.

"If you would like to eat there is a dinner prepared, however, given the hour you may retire if you so wish."

Christine brought her attention back to her husband. She knew she was very hungry. Her stomach had been lurching since she awoke from her nap, however, she knew that she could not stomach a bite of food at the moment.

"I am not hungry." Christine's voice had been dull. He placed a hand on the small of her back and led her up the stairs. She felt her steps losing pace the farther they walked. Her wedding had been one nightmare she had survived she was not sure she would survive the night. Erik stopped at a doorway in the dimly lit hallway. Even above ground he lived in darkness. He unlocked and opened the doorway.

Christine shook as she took her first few steps into the room. The room was decorated in soft blues with deep brown woods. There were two large windows in the room as well as an alcove of windows with a beautiful rocking chair placed in the middle of it. It looked entirely like something she would have picked for herself, yet nothing that she would imagine Erik would ever wish for.

She turned around to look for him but he had vanished and the door had been shut. She darted her head around the room looking for where he would jump out from but could not see any trace of him. Running to the door she easily yanked it open despite her thought that the door would have been locked, confining her to the beautiful bedroom. She peaked her head out into the hallway and looked both ways. Still, he was not present.

Christine backed into her room shutting the door as she did and questioned for a moment if she should lock the door making her desire to not be touched known. She pulled her hand away knowing that even if she did lock the door he would still find a way in to her should he desire so. She looked around the room in search of what she needed most. The first spot she looked were the dresser drawers. Inside she found beautiful and soft pairs of socks, undergarments, and nightgowns. She pulled one of the nightgowns out and set it aside and continued on her search mission. Her next decision proved useful. She opened the night side table drawer and found a soft silk pouch inside which contained a rosary.

Christine knelt down beside the bed and kissed the rosary before marking her forehead, chest and shoulders. She closed her eyes and began going through the prayers she had recited hundreds of times throughout her life but she had not prayed them with such conviction in the years since her fathers passing.

She reached the end of the half hour long prayer cycle and rested the beads inside the pouch she had found them in. Christine wobbled onto wobbly legs before walking behind the divider that she used to ungracefully claw at her wedding gown until she undid the last of the buttons. She did not know how she had been able to button the dress on her own the day before but was sure it had to due with her racing heart. There was a pair of slippers and a silk robe behind the divider, which she threw on atop of her nightdress and tied tightly to her body.

Did she hear the door open? She froze. The image of Erik standing in the room, with that look in his eyes like he would devour her in flames if she let him, flooded into her mind. The sensation in her stomach welled up again as it had when she was on the stage with him. She pulled the folds of the robe closer on her body and placed her cool hands onto her cheeks. She stilled her breath and listed for a moment before poking her head around the corner. No one. It must have been someone down the hall. Christine ran for the night table and retrieved the rosary beads once again wishing to rid herself of the image of Erik's gaze on her on that stage.

Christine did not know when she had fallen asleep and did not recall climbing into the lush bed or pulling the covers back and neatly placing them back atop of her, however, she awoke under such circumstances with the bright sun shinning through the many large windows, alone. Her eyes groggily took a few tries before fully opening. She immediately looked next to her on the bed to find she was the sole body within it. Silently, she thanks God for his. She looked around the bed for the rosary she had last remembered being in her hands and did not find it until she checked the nightstand where it was placed perfectly back in its drawstring pouch.

She climbed out of the bed and remade it before heading over to the drawers where the clothing she had found the day prior was located. She dressed herself with moderate difficulty. The buttons between her shoulder blades had always been a task for Meg or another dancer to aid her with, as she would take on the task for others.

The hallway was still empty. Christine walked out into it and heard faint mumbling. As she approached the balcony of the second floor to overlook the first floor she poked her head over the railing to see who was talking.

Erik was standing by the entrance doorway wearing his white half mask; talking to the man she had seen the night prior. The man only nodded every few minutes as Erik spoke to him in a low tone. The man nodded one last time and he left the door. Erik waited for the door to close before slowly turning his head to look directly up at Christine. She shriveled up in his gaze and backed away from the banister. She walked toward the stairs and descended down to meet him.

She had been thinking so much the night prior of his gaze from the opera that she had not expected to see him watching her with the admiration he had once cast on her a night many months ago when she had first met him.

"Good morning," Christine nearly whispered her breath catching in her throat. He simply nodded his head gently to her.

"Come, breakfast will be getting cold." Erik walked passed her. Christine followed him. They walked passed the stairs and down the hall to a room that opened up into a dinning room. There was already a spread settled out on the end of the table. Erik pulled a seat out for Christine. She took the seat he offered and waited for him to sit at the head of the table beside her. They both pulled a napkin into their lap. Christine reached for the teapot that laid close to her and poured herself a full cup of it. Erik pulled some meats and bread onto his plate. Christine held tight to the teapot in her hands. The porcelain was burning but she could not feel it.

She freely stared at him as he switched from taking bites of food to reading a newspaper he was quickly screening with his eyes. She thought for a moment that he was not the phantom beneath the opera house. In this moment he was but a man savoring his breakfast with his wife by his side. It was as if the spell of the ghost had been broken simply by grotesque realism. Her eyes shut tight and opened again and her vision had been corrected. He was staring at her with his full attention now: no paper in hand, no food being chewed in his strong jaw.

Christine dropped the kettle straight into her lap sending the steam of the hot teapot up into her face. She winced and was quickly pulled out of the seat by Erik.

"Foolish," was the only word he grunted out. There was more he wished to snap but did not allow it.

Christine brought her hands up to her cheeks before bringing them in front of her face. There was light pruning on them from the heat of the kettle. Erik noticed her exploration and snatched her hands to himself. His hands were colder than she imagined the air outside was and found it soothing on her hot skin. He didn't sigh but his exasperation was evident. She felt like he viewed her as an unruly child.

He guided her through another door and into a short hallway that led to a fairly large kitchen. Cold water spouted out of a deep sink that he pulled her hands under.

"Wait," she instinctually pulled her hand away upon seeing the gold band nearing the water. She twisted the small ring off her finger and placed it on a shelf above the sink before placing her hands under the water. Christine did not think much of the small act and did not notice the glimmer in Erik's eyes as he stepped back and allowed her to tend to herself.

"I'll put on another pot of tea," Erik brought a kettle over to the sink and used the second faucet to fill with water. Christine watched him with a genuine curiosity. She was not sure what she had imagine Erik to do in an environment away from the opera but the image of him casually eating or filling a kettle had certainly never occurred to her. Erik briefly caught her gaze from the side of his vision. She did not shy away from it but acknowledged it and his question.

"I never imagined you to be a cook." She turned the faucet off, dried her hands and took the pot from him. She placed the kettle on a burner and stoked the embers of the stove that had just recently begun to die from the preparation of breakfast.

"I am a man just as the rest. A man must eat, mustn't he?" She let out a small laugh at this and stood back up once the fire was warm enough. She hadn't realized with her back turned that Erik had been in fact annoyed with his statement. He relaxed at the sight of her smile. "Shall we continue with breakfast?" Christine nodded and they retreated to the dinning room together.

At the end of breakfast, Christine began to collect the dishes to bring to the kitchen but was stopped by a simple halting hand.

"Luc will attend to it." Christine placed the plates back down.

"Luc is the man who greeted us last night," She questioned. Erik nodded curtly and picked her hand up gently.

"He is a butler of sorts," Erik picked Christine's hand up, there was a slight twitch in her fingers to pull away. "Would you like a tour of the house and grounds?" Christine nodded and allowed him to guide her back to the front of the house.

She did not believe she had a conversation with him so long since before he exposed himself to her at the Phantom and not her Angel of Music. He brought her through every room of the house describing to her the architecture, which she learned he had designed himself. He had however hired an interior designer whom he gave very specific instructions to.

Every room had elegant drapes covering the massive windows that despite the freezing temperature outside barely brought in a draft. The parlor had one of the largest fireplaces she had ever seen inside a home. There was a beautiful music room as well on the first floor that contained a baby grand piano and a few string instruments that were placed in their cases for the time being.

He brought her up the stairs like he had the night before, with his hand on her back. She knew he could feel her tension but didn't mind. She didn't want his hands on her.

They reached the landing and he skipped her bedroom, as she already had seen the room. He showed her two of the guest bedrooms and a small library, office and drinking parlor that were also on the second floor. There was one unopened room that they did not open as he began to guide her up to the third floor.

"I believe you've missed a room," she looked at the shut oak door. Erik shifted his weight briefly between his foot on the first step and his foot on the floor.

"It is an empty room, perhaps you can find use for it for it as a tea room," he seemed to have made up his answer, but Christine could not tell. He had always been an excellent liar but she knew he squirmed under social interactions he didn't know how to handle. She followed him to the third floor which contained an office and Erik's room. He did not allow her to enter this room but did invite her into a second music room. This room had a dome ceiling and a full grand piano. Just from speaking she could tell this room was designed for singing. The acoustics carried Erik's voice to her despite that he was whispering to her from the opposite side of the room.

The last set of stairs Christine came to was a spiral set just at the end of the hallway. She could feel a chill as they reached the top of the stairs. She gasped at the site before her. The room had been the tower of the house. It was very small and contained only two armchairs and a chest. What was spectacular about the room was the view. There were windows on every wall giving them a 360 degree view of the beach and the forest that surrounded them.

The sea captivated Christine. She had not seen it since she was a girl. She was filled with memories of enjoying dipping her feet in the water with her father and splashing around with Raoul. Christine sat in one of the chairs and listened to the sound of the seagulls calling out. She felt like she had fallen asleep while awake. She gazed out and blindly watched the white crests crashing into the beach.

A warm blanket dropped onto her lap and another onto her shoulders. Erik gently descended the stairs without stirring Christine from her thoughts, whatever they might have been. The tour of the grounds would wait for another day, they had the entirety of their lives to explore that together.


	4. Holy Day

A week went by without Christine noticing. She felt as if she had been living through the motions and barely allowing her mind to speak. Erik and her only saw each other at some meals. He would offer to take her on a tour of the grounds each day and each day she would deny him. She would take a book from the library and sit with it unread in the tower despite the biting cold. It was not that she enjoyed blindly watching the sea, it was just that she felt as if she had no other motivation to continue her life than to see the beautiful world her God had placed her in.

Luc cam up the stairs with a hot cup of tea that he placed on the small table she had asked him to move up to the room a few days prior. His small smile graced his lips and he sat down with her like he did everyday.

Luc was mute and he could not write. It was difficult to have a discussion with him but Luc was not much for a discussion, he enjoyed simply the company of a friend. Christine and him grew a friendship quickly. She didn't believe he knew anything of her situation but she knew that he was aware of her despair. Each day he would bring a warm cup of tea to her with a smile and settle down next to her to keep her company.

The next day would be Sunday and Christine realized with great worry that she did not have as easy access to a church as she did within Paris.

"Is there a church close by?"

Luc looked to her slightly surprised. She hadn't talked much and it showed in the way her voice cracked. He thought for a moment then nodded. He stood and turned his back to their normal view and pointed out in the forest. Christine nearly jumped to her feet and looked in the direction of his finger. She found the tips of a small cluster of buildings peeking through the tops of the trees. She almost gasped. Christine had been so lost in her thoughts looking at the sea that she had not thought to look into the forest. There was a small town that looked like it was not too far from the house. There also seemed to be another house standing alone that also seemed to be just a carriage ride away.

"That's wonderful," Christine smiled at the thought of going to church and meeting other residents of the small town.

Christine picked her book up and began to read the book for the first time since her arrival.

Dinner started off quiet, much like it had every other night. Christine's apprehension was not missed though. Erik would watch her out of the corner of his eye whenever she would not be aware of his gaze.

"What is on your mind," Erik cautiously asked when he noticed Christine set her fork down without eating anything off of it for the third time. Christine set it down once more before dabbing her mouth gently with the interior corner of her napkin.

"I was just wondering what time tomorrow mass would take place."

Erik nearly gritted his teeth and place his utensils back upon his plate himself. Christine did not shrink back into her chair.

"You will not be going to mass tomorrow."

His response seemed as is he thought his decision to be final.

"No?" Christine seemed to swell with some emotion that Erik had not seen in her before.

"No, you will not." Erik made eye contact with Christine. He stood up and angrily threw his napkin down on his chair.

"So I will not be attending the mass I have made a promise to God to attend should my health permit it?" Erik ceased in his wide strides just at the archway into the hallway.

""Yes, that is what I said." He staid turned away from her. She took a sip of her wine.

"Are you suggesting that the promises I have made to the church are of no importance?"

"It is not your promises to the church, it is your promises to me that are of importance," he turned on her growling.

"Am I not keeping my promise." Christine felt strength in her that she did not know she had. She rose out of her seat and approached him herself. "You demanded that I marry you and participate in a normal life as a husband and wife should. Attending church is very much a normal activity of a married couple." Erik's fury seemed to rage but he allowed her to continue. "We made our vows to God and I will honor them, but I will honor all my vows to Him."

Erik was silent. An insidious grin had grown on his face in a manner most menacing. His wife reviewed her words: 'all their vows.'

"We will see," he snapped and took off away from Christine.

She went cold.

What would they see?

Had she just promised to lie with her husband?

She took her set and shivered in a breath while taking a long and slow sip of wine.

Christine stayed at the dinner table until long after the food had grown cold and Luc came to collect the plates. He offered several times to refill her emptied wine glass and to each she denied. Her will was stronger than his and she would not be bullied into a life of quiet submission. If he were to have her he would see her displeasure and her fear and be given necrophilia alternative.

The clock struck ten rising Christine to her feet. She breathed heavy, wrung her hands and clutched tight to her dress skirt as she made her way upstairs to her bedroom.

Stopping at her door she waited and listened with her hand on her doorknob. She knew that Erik could very well be on the other side despite the lack of sound. He never really made a noise unless he wanted to. She listened for a moment more before deciding that she would never be able to tell.

Taking a moment to compose herself she opened the door and anticipated him standing right inside the room, just in the middle with his burning eyes instantly placed on her. Yet, he was not there. He was not present in the room at all.

Christine sighed in relief. Her quivering fingers came to the back of her dress and began to unbutton the long line down her back. She hoped that over time it would grow easier to do on her own, sadly, a week had not shown to be enough time. Her fingers came to the most difficult spot, it was too low to reach by going over her shoulder and too high to reach by going under.

The hot and rough finger tips of Erik grazed hers on their journey to her buttons. She did not turn around but she jumped and snatched her hands up to her mouth to stifle a shriek. She looked up to the dark windows in front of her and saw him standing behind her, still in his evening attire. Her heart was beating faster than it ever had and her legs were tense and ready to take off in a moments notice. Yet, instead she staid rooted to her spot.

He snapped his eyes to her in the window. She could feel the heat of his fingertips radiate into the skin of her back. She watched his eyes travel down her hair and neck down to the button that was waiting to be released. He pulled, ever so gently, at the fabric and the button was liberated. He brought his eyes back up to Christine's in the mirror. She had stilled and was watching him with a slow and deep breath.

He turned on his heel and sped to the door.

"Mass begins at ten sharp, we will depart promptly at quarter past nine."

He left the room and shut the door behind him softly. Christine watched him retreat in the window. There was a pull in her that she couldn't define. Slowly she reached up under her arm and undid the next button with ease. Sleep came more uneasy than it had on prior nights and she looked forward for the purity of the church.

There was a quiet between them when they met at the front door the next morning. Christine was dressed in the most modest and beautiful dress she could find in her wardrobe. Erik was also dressed in one of his best suits.

Erik fetched Christine a thick coat paired with a fur muff. He did not open the door to the brisk air until he saw Christine securely place both of her hands inside the safety of the muff after her cloak coat had been buttoned up. The air was brisk but not nearly as cold as she thought it would be for late February by the sea. They left together and walked down the road of their house.

Christine had not breathed fresh air in a week and despite the light breeze chilled with the salty air she reveled in it. She did not realize how the heat had been affecting her. The cold was refreshing. It took away the heat she felt from Erik's touch as he held her hand and back to help her step over a patch of ice.

After walking for twenty minutes they reached a small town. There were a few people walking in the same direction as they. Many were walking together in groups. Christine watched a teenage girl walking behind her parents, slow at pace from reading her book. She saw a group of young women chattering away while their father ushered them along. There were two men thoughtfully in discussion standing on the corner.

Seeing so many people participating in their lives as if they did not notice Erik in the town was astonishing. She was so used to people reacting with horror at the mention of him and now it was as if he was nothing more than a normal man. She looked up to him and saw that he had applied the mold he used the night of their departure. He had grown more skilled with the application, he could have been handsome were it not for the deformity; yet, she felt as if the mold made him appear like someone so different that he was no longer the human version of the angel she had grown to know but an entirely different person. She didn't like it.

They continued their walk an arrived at the church soon enough.

They took a seat toward the back of the church. Christine did not fight Erik on this, she knew she had already won one argument and did not wish to push her luck. Another couple sat down just in front of them. The woman held an infant child in her arms. Christine sat a little taller to catch a glimpse of the sleeping child. She smiled seeing the long lashes of the babe and the slight movement of it's lip as it suckled on it. The woman noticed Christine's gaze and turned gently back toward her.

"Good morning," her husband spoke to Christine and held a hand out to Erik.

"Erik Destler."

"Ludovic Montbelliard, and this is my wife, the lady Sophie Montbelliard." Erik and Ludovic shook hands. Christine and Sophie smiled at each other. Christine felt oddly excited for a moment. Nobody recognized her or the scandal regarding her and the alleged opera ghost. There were people all through the church and no one had taken a second look at them. Ludovic and Sophie were making casual conversation with Christine which brightened her spirits. Christine looked over to Erik when Ludovic casted a question in his direction. She had not noticed how Erik look as if he were about to bolt from the church. Gently, she placed her hand on his arm to stir him from his fixated gaze at the blessed figures of Mary, Joseph and Christ in front of them. He instantly adjusted his attention from the figures to Christine's hand at his bicep, to her face and finally back to Ludovic.

"My apologies," his voice came out in the low raspy breathe. Despite Christine's dislike of him she reveled in his voice. It was more intoxicating than any wine she had ever tasted. "I work as an architect. I am practically retired currently but I do take some small jobs once in a great while."

"An architect? You didn't happen to design that beautiful house that was just built to the north of the church?"

Erik did not speak this time but nodded.

"Congratulation on such a wonderful project. Have you just moved in there, I don't believe I have seen you at masses before." Erik stiffened and Christine guessed it was from the idea of continuing in small talk.

"We just moved in this past week."

"Already a week," Sophie pitched in, "I did not even hear of anyone preparing the house. We had planned to throw a proper ball to introduce everyone to our new neighbors!" She seemed nearly disappointed.

"Yes, we shall throw you a proper ball. Does the third Saturday of February sound appropriate?" Both Christine and Erik stiffened this time, filled with the memories of the last ball they were both in attendance of.

"Oh, please, there is no need for such frivolity on our behalf," Christine reasoned.

"Nonsense, we insist," Ludovic smirked back at Erik as if he were doing them a favor, not realizing the discomfort the two were in.

The ceremony went on in which the pastor left time to offer a welcome to Erik and Christine. Many heads turned back to where they were. Erik nodded in the same manner that he had earlier. Christine adorned a quaint smiled and bowed her head in a similar manner.

He seemed to be squirming and yearning to leave. Christine knew that the few times she had seen him in crowds had been moments in time in which he were making a spectacle out of himself or others. She knew that he probably preferred intimate conversation opposed to the dull uncomfortable small talk with large groups of people. At last the mass came to an end and Erik hurriedly grabbed Christine by her elbow and directed her to the exit.

His effort ceased.

"Ah, there you are," the old pastor held his hand out. Christine could feel the rumble in Erik's chest but managed to miss the sound of it leaving his mouth.

"Hello father," Christine took hold of the very frail looking mans hand.

"I must admit, I expected to meet with you at some point before your first mass in our little town, but I am sure you must have been tired from moving." His speech was slower than any lullaby Christine had ever heard.

"Yes we were quite tired father, I will be sure to come by sometime during the week to speak with you."

"I am looking forward to it, dear."

Erik once again grabbed Christine by her arm and nearly dragged her since her pace was not quick enough to keep up with him.

They were silent on the journey home together. All that could be heard was the sound of the bells retreating in the distance. They arrived home in which Erik hastily slammed the door and locked it. The moment this action was complete every muscle in his body seemed to relax.

Never in Christine's mind would she ever imagine Erik to be afraid of anything. Seeing him relax compared to the apprehensive man he had been for the past hour and half led her to understand that he had been terrified. His actions were like that of the ballerina's when they claimed they were afraid a ghost were chasing them up the stairs. They would calm the moment the jumped into their beds. He calmed the moment there was a barrier between him and the eyes of humans. She wondered if he were afraid that they would discover his shame or if he were simply afraid of people.

He walked over to Christine and helped her remover her jacket before placing it on the rack nearby. Without taking his off he wordlessly walked over to the armchair in the front parlor. Christine watched as he sat silently by a heavy fire. She removed her muff and hat and set it down before leaving the entrance. When she returned she came with a bowl of warm water and a rag.

She brought the bowl gently into the front parlor and set it down on a nearby table. He shifted his eyes over to look at her. She approached him as if he were a starving wolf in the night.

Coming from behind the armchair she delicately placed her finger on the sides of his coat and gently pulled. He closed his eyes relaxing into her gentle touch. He leaned forward to let her pull the jacket from him. She left the parolor to place the jacket on the rack as well then returned to him with a pair of slippers and a robe. She sat on the foot stool in front of him and removed his boots from his feet. He watched her as if he were absorbed into an elaborate piece of music.

She placed the slippers on his feet and helped him into the robe on top of his vest.

Finally after he was settled into a lounge outfit she brought the bowl of water to place on the floor by her. She wrung out the cloth and the footstool to the side of the armchair. He realized what she was about to do and retreated to the stiff body he had been earlier. He grabbed her forearm as she brought the cloth to his concealed face.

With her other arm she carefully brought her hand up to meet where he had clutched onto her arm. His hand felt like sandpaper compared to the soft pads of her fingertips guiding his hand away from her arm. She allowed him to hold her hand as she gently began to dab his face with the cloth.

Slowly the beige clay began to melt down his face and reveal the red irritated skin beneath. After a few minutes he leaned his head back and closed his eyes again. Christine felt the corner of her mouth twitch at the sight. After a few more minutes the water was completely murky with the residue of the mold. He looked so peaceful in the chair even with his hideous face exposed that Christine wondered if he had fallen asleep. She stood to clean up the bowl along with his shoes. He opened his eyes and held onto her hand slightly and she moved to capture every last moment of contact he could with her. She stopped, looking back at him. They held a gaze with each other until the sound of Luc entering and locking the back door met their ears.


	5. Jude the Obscurer

Erik made his presence more available to Christine after that Sunday. He would not sulk away in his office for the entirety of the day and in return she agreed to accompany him on a short stroll each morning. They did not speak much but the extended time that they spent with each other helped Christine to feel more comfortable around him.

They ate their meals together, which Christine would help Luc prepare. She could not bear to sit idle in the tower and dream of another life that could have been. It broke her down too harshly the week prior. She spent her time instead experimenting with embroidery, a talent she had never possessed, reading a few books from the library and exploring the house and what was inside of it.

Erik had everything anticipated for before their arrival. There were several dozens of candles and canisters of oil. The linen seemed endless yet fresh. There was potpourri and china and medical supplies. She had thought of making a list to see when she came across something that was needed but was not in the house. She thought of the moment that she would need something she would throw the list at him in triumph. She could not imagine his reaction as anything but stunned. She giggled at the thought as she read her book.

"What amuses my wife?" She halted. She snapped up from her book suddenly fearful of her fantasy being discovered.

He was standing in the archway to the library.

"I was reading…"

His eyes drifted downward at the title, Jude the Obscure. The novel was new but she had no doubt that he had already read it. She slams it shut.

"I-I-I was just thinking, I wasn't actually focusing on the book."

"And what does my wife think up that is so humorous as she reads such a book?" He didn't seem angry but she knew he was looking to hurt himself with her answer.

"I was thinking of everything that you have supplied me, I mean us, and I…" she took a deep breath and set the book down on the small table beside her armchair, "I was thinking of what would happen should I finally find something that I need."

"What did you think would happen?"

Why must he know my every thought?

"I thought I might," she hid a giggle by adjusting her lips. "I thought I might rub it in your face as a child might and that you would," Christine began to laugh, "be completely astounded. I just imagined your facial reaction is all." Christine brought her hand gently to her mouth.

He did not appear as amused as her. He looked between the book and her face and sighed. I laughed thinking of your face. Christine realized just what he was insinuating from what she had just said. He turned to leave but she jumped from her seat after him.

"It's been much too quiet in here," she played with the tip of her index finger. He turned slightly to listen to her.

"Would you play me something?"

They traveled up to the top floor in silence. There was a light snowfall that dusted the windows outside of the domed room. Erik walked right to the piano and lifted the lid.

He took a seat on the seemingly unused bench and placed his fingers on the keys. She stood behind him and watched his shoulders relax just before he let the first chord enchant the room.

It enveloped her

She closed her eyes remembering the comfort of her old friend. Christine hadn't heard the melody before but could not mistake the composer for anyone except Erik. There was pain in every key he played. She wasn't sure if this was a piece he had composed a while ago; due to the sound which was so different from what she had heard him play before their marriage.

The pieces he played her on the nights when he stole her from above ground were passion filled anger that made Christine loathe herself for having the remnants of human sin in her soul, but also feel the need to indulge in the monster that she had buried deep with holy oil and chaste prayers.

Christine circled around him, slowly. There was a draw to comfort that she knew all too well.

When she came to the side of the piano, he would not look at her. He was absorbed into the instrument as if there were nothing else in the room. He continued his solemn song.

She watched his face and noticed a slight lifted furrow in his brow.

Guilt.

She saw it.

She could hear it.

She could practically feel it from the sorrowful vibrations ringing in the air.

He was bearing his cross of the horrible deeds he had built up for himself, and perhaps, that others helped to build as well.

Christine began to hum unknowingly a duet. Her voice was damaged from being idle, but she kept her side simple and true.

She needed to forgive him: for herself, for him and for their marriage.

His eyes linked onto her as she hummed. She couldn't quite do it yet, but she knew with the guidance of her new priest and some time spent with Erik that they could get there.

Erik let his song end along with hers, yet his gaze held fast to her gentle eyes.

The quiet was less stifling.

"When did you compose that," Christine asked feeling awkward under his observation.

"Just now." Christine could have cried, however, she fought the urge to allow such dramatics. She knew he was not very capable of comfort.

"I thought it was beautiful, thank you."

He only nodded. She took a few steps past him, deciding that she should prepare their supper.

He listened to her every footstep until they halted then retreated back towards him. He felt his heart rate pickup, remembering the last time she had snuck up behind up while he sat at a keyboard.

Instead of removing his mask from his face without the slightest regard towards him and his wishes, she instead placed her hand gently on his shoulder and pressed her lips to the top of his head.

He exhaled audibly.

Her footsteps this time did not waiver as she walked away.

Once outside the room, Christine closed the door to allow him the privacy she was sure he needed. Luc was waiting for her in the kitchen with a chicken which was already rid of its head and feathers.

"Alright, I'm ready," Christine smiled at him. They both stopped short as a melody rang through the walls.

Sunday came too fast for Erik and too late for Christine. After their pleasant condition with each other during the past week, he had allowed her to go to confessional for the first time since just before Don Juan. She decided to keep it light for her first confessional. She wanted to one day have a more in depth conversation with Father Delacroix, but knew that she would have to wait until they had a stronger bond.

She felt more fresh this week walking to church. There was a slight smile on her face as she thought about seeing the couple they had encountered the week before.

She wore something a bit prettier this week. She wanted the town to see her as one of them.

Erik seemed to be dragging his feet, but at the sight of Christine practically prancing to church with her pretty hair blowing and her cheeks turning pink from the cold, he found that the walk was at least enjoyable.

The ringing of the church bells summoned them in to the same seat they had taken the week prior. There were more heads peering over their shoulders at Erik and Christine. The gossip of the new couple in the new and luxourious mansion had spread through the small town and people where gently curious of the new neighbors.

A young boy walking with his mother stopped as he saw Christine in the pew. His parents didn't notice he stopped and left him as they continued down the aisle with reverence.

Christine did not notice until she felt Erik shift uncomfortably in the seat next to her. She looked up and caught the small child in the corner of her eye.

"Good morning little one." Christine whispered gently to the boy who seemed only just old enough to speak well enough to hold simple conversation.

"Good morning Madam," Christine smiled widely at the sweet and innocent voice.

"May I help you with something?"

"Henri!" A scolding whisper came from a woman coming down the aisle. The boy snapped to the attention of the woman quickly shuffling toward him. She neared Erik and Christine. "I apologize, my son is not yet clever with his manners." She had the boy clutched by his upper arm.

"It's no worry, Madam." Christine noticed the black dress the woman wore an the stressed skin underneath her eyes. "The presence of children brings me joy."

The woman nodded still not smiling and walked away with her child at her side. Christine watched the woman walk back to her pew where two other boys, both older in age, kneeled next to an elderly woman. Christine had not thought of life after her own marriage yet as she had only ever looked forward to beginning it in her life before the past few weeks. She suspected that the life of a widow was no life to desired. Even if ones husband was not ideal.

"Hello," a pleasant voice sang and drew near. Christine and and exasperated Erik turned to find Sophie scooting into the pew next to them with little Marie in her arms followed by her husband who look sleepy for 10 o'clock in the morning.

"Good morning," Christine greeted. Erik silently nodded to Ludovic who also seemed to appreciate the silence.

"I apologize, my husband gets a bit excited with his night caps on Saturdays."

"There is nothing to worry about," Christine smiled felt as if she were glowing. The prospect of having a friend she could talk to made her hope that her life would find a bit of normalcy inside her fancy new home.

"Sophie, if you don't mind, could you tell me whom that woman is in the front with the three children. She seemed a bit tired as well and we didn't get the chance to introduce ourselves." Sophie's eyebrows drew in a pityfull furrow.

"She is Madam Comtois, her late husband, Christophe passed away from illness. Her mother-in-law, who is also widowed, has moved in with her to help with the boys who are…" Sophie sighed and pursed her lips, "quite difficult." Christine nodded.

The sermon begun and Christine found herself unable to focus. She was excited to have a change in environment. She watched the other townspeople singing their hymns and instructing their children on proper behavior. She watched one elderly nod off right in the front pew.

The mass went by quicker than they normally had in the past but Christine did not feel the disappointment in the end as she had the week prior. Erik still seemed tense and ready to leave so she would not dally in their departure, but she was stopped by Sophie when they stood.

"Christine," I was hoping that before our ball this week that Monsieur Destler and yourself might come over for lunch with us. So that we might get to know each other a bit better before we host you," Christine felt selfish for not inviting Sophie over to Erik's home but she knew that he could be a threat to anyone who stepped near their home. She looked back to Erik in question who seemed apprehensive.

"What day did you have in mind?"

"Well I know it's short notice but I was thinking Tuesday." Sophie and Christine both looked to Erik with pleading eyes. He seemed to bar his teeth before curtly nodding. Apparently his only form of communication outside of the house… and sometimes in.

"We would be delighted to, thank you for offering."

"Wonderful, we are just down the road from you to the east."

Christine nodded and smiled knowing that Erik probably already knew who everyone was and where they lived.

After they said their goodbyes Erik took hold of Christine's arm. She smiled to him and patted his hand as they rushed away.

The response when they arrived home was no different from the week before. Erik made sure to slam the door shut when they entered.

He went to storm away but Christine snatched him by arm much like Madam Comtois did to her son. He wouldn't look her in the face but huffed out of breath and held his hand over his face. She took off his hat this time and placed it on the holder. He took another stiff breath and helped Christine out of her jacket and muff.

She placed them on the rack for him, hoping that her clothing wouldn't suffer his wrath as the door had and began to work on his own. She unbuttoned his overcoat all the way and unbound him from the scarf he had used to help hide his face. Once she removed it, he made to storm off again but once more she took his arm in her gentle hands and guided him to the front parlor.

Once more she fetched a bowl of warm water, his robe and his slippers and washed the clay from his face. There was less anger in him this week yet more frustration. She began to hum the tune she had hummed with him earlier in the week. She knew not to force him to speak his problems out. Christine could only handle one battle with him at a time. Bringing music back into their lives would help to soothe their hurt in these situations, but there was much to fix between them yet.

He looked younger with the water soaking his face and making the loose strands of hair stick to his face. Christine wiped his face one last time sitting on the arm of the chair. His eyes had stayed closed the entire time. He didn't want to see his Christine's reaction to his face being revealed, even though she had never actually had a negative reaction to his face… just his anger.

He flinched when he was met with soft skin of the back of her hand. This forced him to snap his eyes open to meet hers. There was almost a smile on her lips as she traced his jawline. Her fingers shifted so that the pads of her fingers could cup his jaw. She brought his face close to hers so that her lips could gently press on his forehead.

Erik's breath released with what seemed like ages worth of tension. He relaxed into her hand and brought his own up to press her hand deeper into his face. He let this happen just a moment more before turning an kissing the palm of her hand and letting her go.

She eased down onto the ground and leaned her head against the arm of the chair. They sat together watching the fire die until Luc shutting the back door summoned Christine to return to the kitchen.

She didn't think that she would mind this Sunday routine.

Monday and Tuesday morning were difficult. Erik seemed to be both wanting to be seen but also wanting his annoyance to be known. He would slam things around and make sure that his footsteps were heard. A clear decision when he had spent multiple years pretending to be ghost.

He was dressed in a simple suit with his overcoat and scarf. The mold on his face looked a bit less convincing than normal and Christine wondered how it would hold through the meal. The cold was too much for Christine to agree to walk the distance so Luc escorted them to the manor in their carriage.

They arrived in a very short time. The Montbelliard's manor was larger than Erik's but had less splendor to it. The paint and architecture was in an older fashion and reminded Christine of the mansions that she had seen in paintings of rich people of a century before.

A man who she could assume was their butler opened the front door for them as he heard the carriage approach. Luc opened the door of the carriage for Erik who in turn helped Christine out.

The removed their hats and scarves after they entered and handed them to the tall and snobbish looking man.

He led them to the parlor where Sophie was waiting for them with a book in her lap unopened, clearly waiting their arrival.

"Madam and Monsieur Destler," the man announced them. Erik nodded. Christine smiled and approached Sophie with a hug which she reciprocated.

"I'm so excited to have you over. I enjoy seeing you on Sundays but lunches are a much better opportunity to get to know one another."

"Indeed," Christine smiled and followed her with Erik to the dinning room where four plates were set and a lunch was displayed for everyone.

"How is little Marie fairing," Christine started the conversation off right away. It was always easy to start a conversation when one had a child.

"She's doing wonderful. I'm looking forward for the weather to warm up a bit so that she can get some regular fresh air. I think it will do her wonders."

"It certainly will."

Erik, Christine and Sophie stood from their spots when Ludovic entered.

"Apologies, I was too absorbed in my work and lost track of the time."

He smiled at everyone and took a seat at the head after helping his wife into her seat once more.

They ate conducting a conversation comprised of mostly three participants: Christine, Sophie and Ludovic. Erik would nod every now and again or give curt answers in response to questions directed toward him from Sophie and Ludovic to encourage his conversation.

Christine worried that his stubbornness might deter the kind couple from developing a friendship with her at the least. Especially when the last topic approached.

"Where had you moved from beforehand," Sophie directed this question toward Christine who realized that she did not know how to answer.

The silence brought Ludovic to look up at them both.

Christine began to stutter on her words, which surprised Sophie. She looked between Christine and Erik with an odd look. Christine could not know what she thought, but worried nonetheless, which made her more, flustered.

"Oh, well we…"

"Provence, we came from the south." Erik drank from his glass.

"Quite a journey…" Ludovic shrugged the odd conversation off.

"Yes, my wife gets tired thinking of it." That was certain.

They finished their meals and left after saying their goodbyes. Sophie seemed to eye Erik a tad wearier than she had before they had come. Erik stared at Christine through the entire cabbie ride and despite the short distance she could not wait to have his gaze off of her.

The door slammed shut once more.

"Luc go to the market and fetch us more candles."

"We have plenty," Christine spoke before she thought.

"Go," Erik growled.

Luc had never faltered in the first command, sensing the need to leave the newlyweds alone.

Erik paced in the entryway. The snap of the harness on the horses brought him to turn to Christine. It was not anger but fear disguised as anger.

"Do you have any idea how close that was, we will not be attending that ball this Saturday."

"Ludovic bought it, you do not think he will convince his wife of that what you said is true if she even brings it up to him?"

"We cannot risk it."

"Risk what? There is no trace of us back to Paris. The only consistency is my name. A very common one at that."

"They will suspect something."

"Then let them. You have picked a small town for us to reside. In small towns everyone knows everyone's business. Or we must find a story to tell of our past that we can give them should you not wish for them to formulate their own tales."

Erik stared at Christine with contempt. He was capable of many things including manipulating people to do his bidding, but he could only do this through fear. She however was talented at something he was not. Making friends.

"What would you propose we say."

"As much of the truth as possible, but we do not have to give too much."

"I worked for an opera house and you changed jobs, architecture, managing, and composing on the side for pleasure. We married just before we moved here because you negotiated a decent price on the land."

"I don't believe that will be wise."

"It will be truthful and just and I will not lie to those I wish to trust me."

"I will think on it."

Christine approached him to remove his scarf.

"Why don't you seek advice on it."

"I will think on it on my own, I do not need to continue to argue with you on this topic."

"Not with me, with Father Delacroix."

He took hold of her wrist suddenly; he didn't need the words to express his dissatisfaction with the suggestion. She held her ground.

"He seems like a genuine man, he is bound by oath to keep whatever you bring to him during confessions to himself. By the law that he follows he cannot give even the police any information that he knows. If you want our marriage to work, we must get over our past."

He let go of her wrists out of disgust.

"Please," Christine placed her hand on his jawline. He had to take a moment to settle into it, "for your own sake, you don't even have to talk to him about Paris yet, just talk to him, we can go together this Thursday."

Erik removed her hand from his cheek gently and retreated up the stairs and into his office. Christine removed her coat, hat and scarf on her own wondering if she had just undid all of the work she had accomplished since they came.

She couldn't help but think of Raoul. He never would have rejected her in that manner although she never did desire to display affections with him. She chastised herself for thinking of him and took to busy work to take her mind off the coming days.


	6. The Call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Mature content warning ;D

Living with Erik was proving more predictable for Christine. He had very specific likes and dislikes and it was becoming easier to gauge his reaction to each the longer she lived with him. He hated the smell of sage which she had learned while trying to remove the stench of a failed dinner one night. He wouldn't say it directly but he became quickly irritable and secluded himself to his room shortly after. He enjoyed the water. There had been few times when he had seemingly disappeared into his room but from Christine's watch tower, she could see him heading down to the beaches and he would smell of the sea when they would join for dinner. She could not imagine the finely dressed man jumping into the waters in a swimsuit like another man jumping into a pond to bathe. He despised God. This brought her the most trouble. Christine could not fathom how a man who had burned down an entire Opera House to bind himself in a contract with God for her hand could hate Him.

She had left her rosary in the parlor one night after staying up late reading and was awoken when the moon was still dominating the sky. Three simple but stern knocks at her door. She jumped awake and scuffled around the room pulling her slippers and robe on. When she reached the door her eyes were startled and her hair was disheveled. Erik was standing tall and fully aware which distressed her considering her own state of confusion after being abruptly awoken.

"Yes... what is it?"

"You left something in the parlor and you must retrieve it."

With such urgency Christine felt panic arise in her as she wondered what she could have left there to cause him to call on her at such an hour. She nodded and pulled her robe closer to her as she glided down the stairs. Erik positioned himself at the railing to watch her from the shadows of their home at night.

Christine walked into the parlor and looked at the floor first wondering if she had dropped a stocking or undergarment in some odd way but found nothing. Then on the night able she found her rosary laid next to her bible. Quite urgent. She picked them up and walked to the entryway. She held them up to him.

"Is this it," Christine asked still a bit confused. Erik's golden cat eyes narrowed from the shadows.

"Please keep your things tidy and in their proper place." He stalked off sending Christine a chill and leaving her afraid of who would chase her up the stairs. She scurried up the stairs and into her room quickly. She cursed Erik an hour later when she could not back to fall asleep.

Christine brought this trouble to her confessional. Just speaking of it felt sinful and she had to remind herself that her husband was not her God.

Speaking with Father Delacroix for the second week in a row felt like a bigger success than attending the first week.

"Bless me father for I have sinned." She saw dimly the father nod and provide her with the sign of the cross.

"Amen," he whispered low.

"I confess I have found myself pitying myself in the past week despite redirecting myself to consider my blessings as I was guided last week. I have misspoken on three occasions when I have become frustrated while cooking. I am also distrusting of my husband's relationship to God." She saw the priest shuffle in his seat with this.

"What brings you distrust in this?"

Christine breathed into her folded hands.

"My husband is reluctant to go to mass or confessional despite my encouragement. He has sinned in the past yet has taken advantage of the vow he asked me to make with the Lord."

Father Delacroix now took a long breath.

"Some men have a complicated history with the church. Some priests take advantage of their position and impose terrible sins and tragedies onto the vulnerable. Those who were once vulnerable, survive by killing their vulnerability... It takes a great deal of time and patience to give birth to trust again. Your efforts are not unseen by God, dear. If he does not wish to see God in church, show him God in Eden that we live. The Shepard will call when the lamb can hear."

Christine was quiet as she took in his words.

"For your penance for taking His name in vain, I'd like you to pray ten Hail Mary's. As for your feelings of insufficiency, I'd like you to share with your husband what you feel grateful for, perhaps at dinner time after prayer."

She cringed thinking about the flow of conversation but nodded.

"Thank you, father."

"God the Father of mercies, through the death and resurrection of His Son, has reconciled the world to Himself and sent the Holy Spirit among us for the forgiveness of sins. Through the ministry of the Church, may God give you pardon and peace. I absolve you from our sins, in the name of the Father, and of the Sone and of the Holy Spirit."

"Amen."

"God has forgiven you of your sins. Go in Peace."

"Thanks be to God."

Christine stepped out of the confessional and walked to the back of the church where a small shrine to St. Benedict Labre. She knelt on the pew and lit a candle before removing her rosary from her purse. She prayed the words in her head but thought of her husband as she stared at the copy of Benedicts death mask. The white mask which reminded her so much of one she had been fearful of filled her with hope. Her husband had a place in this church. She could not force it but she could certainly inspire.

Christine couldn't muster up the courage to strike up a conversation about what she was thankful for when Erik would glare at her while she finished her mealtime prayer. She fell into their normal routine of silence for their mealtime conversation but instead planned a small treat for him to share with him a delight she cherished.

She finished her prayer smugly and picked at her dinner. Erik ate to serve a purpose and then to leave. Christine hardly had an appetite for anything besides what she had prepared next so she did not mind halting her own dinner suddenly when Erik stood to leave his place at the table.

"Wait," Christine put a hand to his chest as she jumped out of her chair. She quickly dabbed the corners of her cheeks and threw her napkin back into her seat. She scurried into the kitchen with an eagerness, she didn't notice the twinge of a smile that crept onto Erik's face watching her nearly run in and out of the dining room, clearly excited.

When she returned, she was holding a plate with a magnificent cake that smelled like apples and sugar. Luc followed with a ladle and boat of vanilla cream.

"I've had a hankering for something sweet and I thought you might like to try the one dish I've ever learned to make."

She wanted to smile but she found herself fixated on watching Erik's reaction.

He nodded.

Christine swallowed and steppe forward with the plate. She cut him a slice and took the boat from Luc and poured the hot vanilla cream on top of the plate. She sat down and forgot to serve herself she was so eager to see Erik's response. He was not moving but was staring back at her.

"If you've had such a hankering, I suggest you take a piece for yourself then."

"Oh," Christine laughed and quickly served herself a small piece. It smelled like home.

She took a small amount onto her fork and breathed deep when she put it in her mouth. The memories of the dish and the smells and tastes were enough to encourage tears. She opened her eyes and found Erik watching her.

"I love this cake, my papa taught me how to make it, I made it for Mama Valerius many times. I have shared this with all those I love." She took another bite and didn't think of the words she had just chosen.

Erik took a breath and took a bite of his piece. It was delicious and comforting. He sighed and took another bite before swallowing. The taste was spectacular but there was something that just felt more like this was made of an embrace than of apples. He heard a sharp breath in and snapped out of the trance of sugar.

Christine had mouth full of apples and eyes full of tears. They were not falling but it was clear she was filled with emotion.

"My apologies," she breathed out, swallowed and then dabbed her mouth. "The smell has brought back some very happy memories that feel bittersweet at the moment." Erik and Luc made glances to each other and Luc silently agreed that he would prefer to leave the room.

"Our senses can trigger deep emotions to arise, there's nothing to apologize for. Enjoy it." Erik took yet another bite. Christine smiled and sniffed.

"I wanted to share this with you, I've made this at every place that has felt like home to me. Obviously, I never made this at the Opera House, however, it never felt like a home, it always felt like a…"

"Refuge," Erik finished her sentence and the last bite of his cake. Christine nodded. Something dark crossed his mind and Christine hoped he would come back from it.

"Would you like another piece," she offered.

"Please, no, take it away. It's too good, I'll eat it all." Christine laughed and began to clear the dinner table.

They relaxed in the parlor together that night near the fire. The heavy dessert was sitting comfortably in Christine's stomach and she could still taste the vanilla as she read her book. She commonly could not get comfortable on the stiff couches and would find herself positioning herself on the floor. Perhaps it was the nostalgia of comfy nights by the fire with her father, but that night she wanted to be close to someone. After several minutes reading by the coffee table, she scooted herself by Erik's armchair and leaned her head against the side. She pretended to read while she was actually wondering what Erik would do or if he would even notice. After absentmindedly flipping through another two pages she felt his hand brush the side of her hair with a few of his delicate fingers.

He stroked her hair again and twirled a portion of her hair around his finger. She closed her eyes enjoying the calming sensation and slight chill that went down her neck. He continued to gently toy with her hair. It was so easy. To let all her resentment go and to enjoy this moment with her Erik. She sighed again and felt her body giving in. She fell asleep being soothed by the gentle brushes of his fingertips to through her hair.

It felt like only a few moments later but Christine felt the cool chill beginning to win the battle against the dying fire. She was being gently nudged. She could only manage to lift her heavy eyelids for a moment.

"It's late," Erik's angelic voice whispered to her.

"Mmm." She nuzzled into the armchair further.

"Give me your arm," he whispered.

"Hmm." She grunted and obliged. His sturdy arms wrapped themselves around her and easily lifter her up. She felt a flutter in her stomach and chest which woke her up more. She held onto his broad shoulder and could smell him. In her sleepiness she pressed her face closer into the crook of his neck to take a deeper breath. As the air filled her lungs, she felt it heat up her lower abdomen. There was a musk that was natural to him that she wanted to drown in. He reached the first step and she could feel how fast and hard his heart was beating, it made her think of a horse with its strength. They were halfway up and she was fully awake now, her mouth was starting to water and she had a sudden impulse to turn her head and taste his neck. The warmth in her abdomen had spread through the rest of her body and she was very aware of how her nipples were rubbing against her corset and the tingle it gave her. She felt him take a deep breath in himself and wondered if he was having similar feelings.

They reached her door which he managed to open himself, she knew the end was near and took another parting breath with her new favorite scent. He stepped into her bedroom with her still in his arms, stopped and slowly began to lower her legs to the floor. She held on tightly to his shoulder still and his biceps. The warmth in her abdomen reminded of one of some of his music that always made her think of fire.

She felt him breath out into her hair when she didn't let go right away. Christine looked up and found the fire she felt in her body show itself in Erik's eyes. She wondered if he would kiss her and felt the friction of her corset again. She wanted his touch on her.

The silence of the room began to reach Christine's ears and call her to her better judgment. She let go of Erik's form and pulled her hands to her hot cheeks. Erik reached up and pulled her hand away from her face to see her blushing cheeks. He tucked a strand of hair gently back to its place.

"Goodnight," his soft voice reached her ears.

Christine couldn't give him a response. Instead she saw him slowly turn and walk out of the room. She found herself unable to move from her spot after he left and shut the door. Her mind seemed numbed and her body almost felt in pain and disappointed. There was a need that her body felt that was unsatisfied and perhaps even her heart.

She sat on the edge of her rocking chair while she stripped out of her outer layers. She was in her room but all she could see in front of her were Erik's lips. She had had many kisses with Raoul but she had never longed for his lips the way she was fantasizing over Erik's. She took off her corset and felt the cold reach her breasts as they released. They felt tender, she brought her hand up to touch them and found them soar similar to a deep bruise beneath the skin. Her body knew something that she didn't and was trying to communicate to her. Love in the bible had never been described as an ache but the poetic love you read in books and Shakespeare always mentioned yearning and need for desires to be met by the other.

Christine grabbed a nightgown and changed into it and jumped into bed without saying her nightly prayers. She was afraid of God being present with her at the moment with her body recuperating from such an excitement. She laid in her bed and blew the nightstand candle out. His smell was still lingering in her mind and she felt a pang run through her abdomen. The muscles in the most private parts of her seemed to flex and release as she adjusted. She tried to take a deep breath to settle the roaring fire inside of her and wondered if there could be a chance that such feeling were from God, the want she needed to fill was the most natural need all of humanity suffered and delighted from. It came so naturally to her perhaps she should listen to her call.


	7. Set

Chapter 7

Christine was quite excited for their upcoming excursion. She had woken up early that Thursday and had some extra bounce in her steps and voice that Erik thrived in watching. Each day Christine seemed to bring more and more life to their home than he had ever hoped to have. Their music sessions each day were the peak of his day and their cozy nights by the fire made him feel like he was living inside a painting when he could freely watch the flames dance on her face.

He had a gift delivered in the morning that he was quite nervous to give to Christine. It was tradition for a bride to wear her wedding dress to formal functions after her wedding for a period so that others may see her dress, however, after the fiasco of their wedding day, the bottom of her dress had been ruined beyond repair. He sent the top of her dress to a local tailor and asked for a bottom to be made to match in a different style.

Christine was sitting in her tower watching the waves breaking. Erik ascended to find her watching the waves with the hint of a smile on her face. She was soaking in the distant sun

“Do you think it’s time to prepare for tonight,” he called to her from the top of the stairs, not quite wanting to stop watching the beautiful portrait in front of him. Simply catching a glimpse of her was enough to calm him of any stress.

She smiled and placed the blanket on her lap back into its proper place on the arm of the chair. They both descending the spiral staircase and made their way to the second floor. He made his way to his room and listened at the door for her footsteps to travel down the hall to her own room. When she opened the door he could hear her gasp.

Christine walked in to find a stunning over skirt hanging from her divider. It was a soft white in between an ivory and a light cream. There was tulle similar to the tulle from her wedding dress attached at the bottom and swept in a semicircle to decorate the front of her skirt. In the back there was a large bustle that pinched together in different spots down the back by intricate and delicate lace. Her wedding dress top seemed to have been cleaned and was hanging next to the skirt. She held it up to herself in the mirror. She almost felt the need to giggle when she saw it against herself. Why could she not have had that magical day and romance that others had? The longer the stared the more she thought about the life she could have had as a married woman. With a husband who let her chose to be married to him, with the hope of children and happy Christmases.

She looked at the dress again and clutched it tighter. Perhaps if things had gone differently, she would have chosen to marry him. He did so many wonderful things for her and she knew that his past was dark and led him to many unhealthy decisions. She could certainly acknowledge that she had feelings for him. She couldn’t say those feelings out loud yet but felt it. There was still resentment, yes, but she found comfort in his company and excitement to share with him. She could use this new dress and a new start for herself in their marriage. The marriage she was choosing to the man she felt great affection for.

It took her very little time to get into her dress. She was so excited to get it on that she swore it was the fastest she had ever gotten ready. She did her hair next before anything else. Pinning it so that it just rested on the top of her head while some of the curls fell down her back. Next, she applied the slightest bit of rouge to her cheeks and lips then added a tiny bit of oil to her eyelids and dark powder to her eyebrows and lashes. She washed her hands before pulling her long gloves on and finally she spritzed a small bit of perfume onto her neck. When she finished the sun was setting and she couldn’t fathom how the rest of life would be spent enjoying such a splendid view just outside her window.

The awe inspired her to step into the hallway. Erik was waiting already in the parlor. She could tell by the glimmer from the fire.

“Erik.” She called and felt her heart skip at her sudden nervousness.

He came out of the parlor and into view. His face putty was carefully placed on. He was dressed in a new suit and waistcoat that accented his broad shoulders. She suddenly remember their encounter and the way his shoulder felt as she held onto him and the heat that radiated off of him when they stood close together.

“Would you help me with my necklace, please?” She turned and went into her room to save herself the embarrassment of facing him with pink cheeks. She sat at the vanity and had already pulled out the necklace she wished to wear. She watched the door when he came in and smiled sweetly.

“Thank you for the dress, it’s lovely.” He nodded. She didn’t expect much more, he seemed to feel awkward at receiving compliments or praise despite trying his hardest to earn it from he. Christine suspected her gratitude meant more to him than he showed. He approached her at the vanity and looked at her face in the mirror. He could not have imagined a more beautiful image. Her eyes glistened and her skin seemed to be radiating the light that was dying in the sky.

He took the necklace from her hands and swept the hair pinned up to the side so not to entangle the jewels in her locks. His gloved fingers brushed the back of her neck as he worked the clasp. He could see the hairs stand on her neck. He want to touch her more to see what other responses he could pull from her but quickly looked away so that he could remain in control of his impulses. He looked out the window at the setting sun, yet another blessing he felt unfit for.

“It’s so beautiful tonight, do you think we might enjoy it before we leave,” Christine stood and walked to her bay window were there were benches lined with plush pillows. He looked at the clock in her room and nodded. He preferred to be prompt, but he was not keen on attending this ball.

She sat in just the right spot for the pink orange glow to dazzle her features. She held a hand out to call him to her. He took a seat next to her at the window and felt the warmth of her reach him. She leaned into him as she did his armchair and rested her head upon his shoulder. He moved his arm closest to her to wrap around her waist while they relaxed.

He had been plagued with nightmares and restless night but the half hour he spent there with her simply watching the night come was the most rejuvenating experience he had ever had.

They arrived to the ball only fashionably late. There was a jolly tune being played from the inside that Christine could hear from their carriage. Erik escorted her into the extravagant home.

Their butler met them at the door and took their coats.

The host had cleared much of the furniture from their dinning room so that people could dance along to the tunes. There were so many different colors and styles of dresses dancing about. They weren’t quite as grand as those that she had seen in Paris but these all had character to them. You could tell that some of the women had sewn their own dresses or were wearing a handed down gown with the more circular skirts. A few people glanced their way with friendly faces but didn’t part from their joyful dance.

“Ah, hello!” Sophie’s excited voice called from behind them. She gracefully pecked a kiss onto Christine’s cheek and then the other. “You haven’t been waiting long have you?” Her voice was slightly louder than usual and Christine noticed the full glass of champagne in her hand and wondered if it was really her first.

“No, not at all, we’ve just arrived.”

“Oh, splendid, wait here and I’ll go fetch you something to drink.”

Erik shifted uncomfortably, she could never imagine him in such a jolly place and blending in. In fact she had a rather clear image of her ruining a night of jolly with his menacing costume and threats. Now he didn’t look so threatening, he looked like a boy being thrown into the water when he couldn’t swim.

“Madame and Monsieur Destler,” the voice of an old man called to them. They turned around again and found Father Delacroix with a pleasant smile on his face.

“Father,” Erik grumbled out.

“Good evening Father,” Christine smiled sweetly, “I’m happy to see you here.”

“Thank you, I tend not to stay too long, but I enjoy getting to see everyone celebrating and lively. I see people most often at their most grim.” Christine giggled at this. A sudden thought came to her mind.

“Father, due to our move shortly after our marriage, I was wondering if you might be able to grant us a blessing.”

She could feel Erik’s eyes bearing into her but she wanted this for the both of them. A new start to a life she was choosing with Erik.

“I could certainly do so if you would also be in agreement,” Father Delacroix was asking Erik who refused to look the man in the eye. Christine placed a reassuring hand onto his upper arm. His head seemed to bobble for a moment before nodding firmly.

“Splendid, I will grant you a blessing after the toast.” The old man walked away and greeted a young woman who was no older than sixteen standing by herself in the corner of the room.

Erik was tense. Christine rubbed his arm gently and patted it.

Sophie came running in with Ludovic. Ludovic slapped Erik on the back and offered him his hand to shake. Christine was nearly certain that Erik had never been a part of the brotherly affections of handshakes and backslapping that Ludovic naturally found apt. Erik’s eyes were almost bulging out of his head. Christine quickly handed him one of the glasses of champagne that Sophie shoved into her hands.

The song came to an end and the dancers and guests all clapped.

Ludovic chimed his glass with a spoon and handed it back to a servant.

“Thank you all for coming tonight, my wife and I are delighted to see all of your faces along with two new ones. We have thrown this party as a means to introduce and welcome Madam and Monsieur Destler to our humble community. Let us share in a toast of welcome to our new neighbors!”

Christine blushed with the attention but relished in the friendly smiles they received. The crowd echoed a series of agreements and raised their glasses.

“To the Destlers!” Everyone took a sip of their champagnes including Father Delacroix which Christine found amusing.

“If I may?” Father Delacroix asked Sophie who shook her head with enthusiasm. “I am also gracious for receiving more happy couples to join us in our home. I would like to give the young couple a quick blessing.” Christine looked up to Erik and smiled while she laced her arm through his.

“We thank you, O God, for the love You have implanted in our hearts. May it always inspire us to be kind in our words, considerate of feeling, and concerned for each other’s needs and wishes. Help us to be understanding and forgiving of human weaknesses and failings. Increase our faith and trust in You and may Your prudence guide our life and love.” Erik was stilled by the prayer, he was locked into the priests words. Christine watched him listen until the end when he caught sight of her watching him. He pulled her close to him by her waist to his side. “Bless this marriage O God, with peace and happiness, and make this love fruitful for Your glory and joy both here and in eternity.”

“Amen,” Christine’s eyes were tear filled. This was her vision. The crowd again echoed with “amens” and clinking of their glasses with their fingers or rings. They continued to clink while Christine giggled. Erik seemed uncomfortable but succumbed to the pressure. He bent down and gently pecked Christine’s rosy lips. The room filled with cheers and more sips of champagne. Christine laughed and raised her glass to everyone taking another drink. This was her vision, this was all she had hoped for. Erik was sipping the champagne himself and seemed much less defensive than he had been moments before.

The night was spectacular for Christine. She met many of the other people who resided in the town and even caught sight of Erik speaking with a few of the other men. He didn’t quite get to the point of laughing or even smiling much but he conversed which was more than she could have asked for. This was especially true as this allowed her to walk away from him at the party to chat with and enjoy the company of other women. She had always preferred to be on her own but on occasion it was nice to listen to the scandalous gossip that a group of women could conjure up. She was introduced to Madam Comtois, Julie, who was quite nervous but kind as anything. Christine thought about how terrible it must be to have lost a husband and have to sit through the blessing of someone else’s marriage.

Julie and Christine found comfort against the wall together and spoke of Julie’s children: Claude, John and little Henri whom Christine had already met. Claude had escorted his mother to the ball; it was his first. Julie pointed him out in the crowd. He was quietly standing by Erik listening to conversation between the men. Every so often Christine could see him catching a glimpse at the girl she had seen earlier who was now enjoying a dance with Father Delacroix. She was not the most graceful dancer but her happiness never wavered from her face or laughter.

Erik looked around the room for Christine when he heard a gentle waltz begin to play. A few couples already began to sway about. He excused himself from the conversation he was barely partaking in and approached her from across the room. Christine smiled when he reached close to her. He bent down so that he could whisper into her ear.

“Would you allow me to dance with you,” his voice was almost timid.

“That was the entire purpose of coming tonight, of course.” She took his hand and they made their way to the dancefloor. He took her waist and she took his shoulder.

He moved first swaying them gently twice before moving forward and moving them about the room in the same direction the rest of the dancers were heading. Christine’s smile hadn’t seemed to leave her lips the entire time. Erik would have certainly been the one to know as he had not been able to focus on anything but her pretty rose colored lips the whole night. While he was stuck in conversation with the other gentleman he was envisioning her lips singing all of the songs he had taught her.

He spun her under his arm once and rejoined with her. Her hair bounced around wafting the smell of her to him. He felt intoxicated with happiness, one that he didn’t deserve. He began to lose the feeling as he noticed the priest watching them spin around the room. He longed for the day that he did not have to attend church along with Christine with that bleeding man peering at him, the demon amongst the angels, from his cross.

“Stay with me,” Christine quietly said to him. She had noticed his eyes gazing out to somewhere else. She didn’t want to know where it was that was torturing him. “I don’t know where you are, but I am quite happy here.”

“As you wish.” He tried to focus on her pretty lips again but all he could think of was how he would not ever be worth of putting his hand upon her with all the horrors they had done.

“I need to ask you a question,” she twirled again in his arms. The music in time with the rhythmic movement of their dancing

“What is it you must know,” he seemed skeptical but smirked when he twirled her again watching her hair bounce.

“How are you able to swim in such cold weather,” she giggled as the words came out.

“I wasn’t aware that you knew of my excursions.” His eyebrow was lifter at her which pulled the putty slightly.

“I can be quite a detective if I have enough time on my hands,” Christine was almost smirking at him. Erik smiled and scoffed which was the closest Christine had seen him to laughing since their marriage. “What amuses my husband so?” She grinned widely this time, throwing back at him the passive remark he had made to her prior. His smirk remained.

“Getting into cold water reminds me that I have control over myself.” His words stunned her. Christine would have stopped dancing if he hadn’t kept moving carrying her with him. “The water is so cold it’s nearly unbearable, every time before I go in I do not want to. Yet, once I get in and then get out I have controlled myself already against a strong urge. I think it a useful skill.” Christine was no longer smiling.

“You do not think of how you could get ill,” she asked him with an urgency that he didn’t understand.

“My clothes are dry when I am finished and the house is not far.” He placed his hands on her waist and lifted her up spinning her around in the air. She shook her head and stunned amazement and chuckled as she came down.

The music had ended and everyone clapped. Another jolly tune came on and Erik noticed the yawn that Christine was fighting.

“Perhaps it’s time to return,” he held his elbow out. Christine nodded and waved gently to Julie who was watching them with a hint of nostalgia. Erik nodded to the men in the corner he had been conversing with.

“Bon soir Monsieur Destler,” young Claude called a little too loud bringing a fit of laughter from the gentlemen who had too much to drink. Christine saw the young man look across the room to the girl he had been eyes. She was giggling ever so slightly as well behind her hand. Claude’s turmoil was disturbed by a hearty slap on the back.

“He is interested in architecture,” Erik stated as he nodded to the butler at the door for their coats.

“You should invite him over to teach him then,” Christine looked about for Sophie or Ludovic. Erik scoffed at her. “You were an excellent teacher to me.”

“Sophie,” Christine caught sight of her. Sophie came over to the two of them just as the butler had pulled out Christine’s coat.

“Are you leaving so soon,” Sophie seemed disappointed but was also slurring between her words. She seemed to be on her sixth or so glass. She came up and grasped Christine on her forearm with a strength she has only seen in a few men. Christine giggled and pulled her hand into hers to steady her.

“Unfortunately yes, we thought we could at least outstay Father Delacroix but I’ve had so much fun I am simply exhausted.” Sophie let go and laughed fully.

“Oh please, nobody can stay longer than him, he’s always the last one out.” Sophie continued to laugh.

Christine and Erik were able to leave finally. The second she got into the carriage she let out a long yawn behind her hand. Erik was watching her from across.

When they returned home, Erik had to stir Christine awake. He didn’t want to but he knew she would be less appreciative waking up in the freezing cold in a few hours. They walked into the house where he helped her take her jacket off. He quickly went to retreat to his room as he was feeling some intrusive thoughts coming to him mind that he wanted to deal with on his own but he was stopped by Christine.

“Wait, I’d like to make sure that this all gets washed off,” she pressed her hand on his arm and nudged him toward the parlor. He obliged her and made his way there. She had run upstairs to remove her gloves then came back down with a bowl of water and a rag. She first removed his wig and rubbed the line on his head where the adhesive would stick. He never noticed before how irritating the adhesive was until she started to pamper him with cleaning his face and removing his wig on Sundays after church. She took the rag and began to wash the mold from his face. The water turned to a shade of beige and with each stroke she was starting to recognize the human her husband was. He took a deep breath and leaned his head back.

His face was soon clean but she enjoyed watching him relax. She wondered if he would fall asleep if she did it long enough.

She set the rag down in the bowl and walked over to him. His head was leaned back with his eyes closed and his hands resting on the arms. It was a sudden urge but she came slowly over to him and sat on his lap. His eyes opened sharp when she did this but she brought her hand up to his rough side of his face and gently stroked. She let her hand move back to his hair and twirled a small tendril around her finger feeling how surprisingly soft it was. His eyes were glimmering which made him look young a vulnerable. She did this motion again and watched him relax more and more.

She placed a kiss to the top of his head.

“Tonight felt like our wedding,” she said softly and leaned her cheek against his head. She continued to stroke his hair. “We didn’t have a wonderful start.” Erik had his eyes fixated on her and he was surprisingly calm as she said this. “I think that there were a lot of difficulties that were in our way in Paris. I always had an image of what I wanted in my marriage and family and I never thought that I could have it with you. I think I felt it but I didn’t know it. I do know it though, Erik.” She was nearly heaving by the end of it.

Erik eyes had teared up which Christine had only seen once before when she had humiliated him, he said nothing now.

The fire was not going and there was no other sound besides her breathing which began to fill her with insecurity.

“Please say something,” Christine laughed a pretty tear drop fell down onto his jacket.

“I don’t have any words, but I’m…” Erik took a shuddering breath in, it was so touching for Christine to sit with her husband without barriers and express her admiration, “happy. I’m happy.” He sat up holder her in his arms and pressed his rough lips to hers. He sucked gently on her lip then separated and rejoined their lips together. Christine felt her brain fuzz in a delightful frenzy. He separated their lips from one another and pulled back. He grasped her face in his hand and watcher her nuzzle into his hand where his wedding band sparkled in the moonlight.

Any disturbing thoughts that wanted to come into his mind needed his permission. Tonight he would not let his ghosts haunt him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably should have added a Fluff alert for all you grinches. This episode of POTO fanfic was inspired by Goop. No joke haha there is a show on Netflix that Goop produced and there’s a Norwegian guy who treats his mental health difficulties by getting into freezing cold water every day. I’ve tried it and in all honesty it’s horrible and amazing. I highly recommend watching it, his name is Wim Hof! Again this feels rushed but I’ll come back and fix it later, I’m not a good chronological thinker or writing haha I want to get the big things out and then connect the dots! Also succumbed sounds like a weird word right? I totally thought it was succame (no idea how you would spell that) but that’s not a word so??? If any grammar nazis’ have strong feelings about this come at me if I got it wrong!!!!


	8. Burn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Smutty, legit smut warning, beware of it. 
> 
> Smut

Erik could have stayed in the chair for the rest of his life but he could feel Christine's skin growing colder every second that passed by. He held on for just a few moments more before making movement to stand up.

"Would you help me start my fire," Christine asked with a pale face, Erik suspected that the cold had drained her. He nodded and followed her up the stairs to her room. She walked unbearably slow when they reached the top.

She stood in the corner of the room and watched as he lit the fire that was already prepped. Within minutes a blaze was casting flickering shadows across the room. She liked the look of his silhouette against the fire.

Christine had felt before the radiance of Erik's desire. She had felt it in the heavenly way that fills you with heat and the hellish manner that fills you with fire. She knew that asking him to help her with the fire was not direct way of let him know of her willingness but she could not bring herself to say the words.

He poked the fire twice more and then made his way to leave the room. He stood at the doorway and nodded to her his gold eyes twinkling in the dark. He stepped out of the room and closed the door. She could never hear his footsteps but this time she could nearly feel him getting farther from her.

She ran for her door.

"Erik," she could hardly hear her own voice over the blood rushing behind her ears. She ran into the hall and waited until he turned around. He waited for her to continue.

"Would you… help me," she was breathy in her voice and she knew that he could hear it. He didn't budge. "Please." They stood standing in the hallway facing each other for too long before he took his first step forward. She felt as though she needed to run but as she took her first step back into her room, she knew her legs would give out if she dared try. She found the seat at her vanity and saw her red cheeks just before Erik appeared in the mirror behind her. She took off her earrings and when she set them down neatly his calloused fingers brushed the back of her neck when they reached for the clasp. The grittiness of his rough fingers felt exhilarating to the leather gloves he had worn earlier. She gave up on controlling her breath and let her lungs take in all they could fill rising her bosom through the top of her dress. She watched it fall again and noticed Erik had never taken his glaring golden eyes off hers. Once her necklace was free, he handed it to her which she placed neatly next to her earrings. He turned to leave as he didn't consider she had any other need for him.

"No," she stared at him intently through the mirror, "stay." Her voice sounded weird to her ears and she hoped she wouldn't have to speak anymore when she saw the look in Erik's eyes that grew. She had seen that look before once and she had thought that the lights for the stage had burned her down her back.

Next she brought her hands up to her hair and found the few pins that were holding everything in place. Now he broke her eye contact to watched her curly locks tumble down her bare shoulders and further yet to her back. She stood slowly from the vanity so not to tumble on her gelatin legs. She pulled her hair over her shoulder.

Erik seemed to be in a trance of his own so she turned over her shoulder to look at him again, she wanted to smile but the heat in her body was melting her to her spot. His hands found the ties on her dress and began to pull them loose. She watched his eyes dance about when his lips fell open, she could see an urgency building up inside him that she could relate to. When the laces were free, he swallowed and let his hands fall to the small of her waist. She placed her hands on top of his and turned around to face him.

He seemed to be melted into the same mold she had drowned into. She brought her hand up off of his and placed it on his chest. She stood on her toes to place a kiss on his cheek and stayed close while she unbuttoned his jacket. His hands reached further around her back and began to pull her dress top from her as she reached the last button of his jacket. Their hands separated from each other to remove her top and to help him push the jacket from his arms and on their way free their lips imprisoned one another. Christine clutched onto him as hard as he did to her. She leaned back to find the ledge of the vanity to give herself support. Every luscious scent he carried with him she felt suffocated by in the most blissful sense. It took over her senses.

She felt his teeth graze against her lip and his hand come up to cup the back of her head. He lightly gripped onto her hair and pulled her face even closer to his. He was hunched over and completely encompassing her with his height. She reveled in living in a space that she physically shared with him. She quickly released his tie and was working on his shirt now. She could remember being on stage with him and seeing the dark chest hairs peaking out from his V-neck costume. A rush of warmth spread through her legs and core. She parted her lips to gasp which brought Erik to a sudden awareness. His eyes snapped open and he released her lips from his imprisonment to now take capture of the skin just beneath her jaw. A gasp found its way again to her breath.

She was nearly down to the last button of his shirt and she could feel the extra warmth radiating from him onto her. Erik took a hold of her dress skirt and petticoat and lifted them over her head. When she was free, he turned her around so she was facing the vanity mirror. His lips found her neck again while he went on untying her bustle free from herself. She could see the hairs on his chest peaking through his unbuttoned shirt again even in the poor light. The bustle fell to the ground and he began to pull on her corset strings with more energy than he had applied to her dress top. She loved seeing his eyes ablaze as he worked to free her of yet another layer. He turned her back around by her hips and Christine pulled the waistcoat and shirt free from him. His bare chest burnt her already blazing skin. She could not say how many times she had thought of his chest since their performance and it had felt shameful at the time but now she only felt pure. Their lips found each other again and Christine realized she could taste the wine he had drank from the ball. She dipped her tongue into his mouth and found it again. She wanted to lap up every ounce of sweetness from him. He finished on the last few strings he loosened. She separated her lips from him and lifter her arms as he pulled the corset over her head and tossed it to the floor. Her hair spilled down her shoulders again which slowed Erik's craze. He placed his hands on her waist where her chemise met her drawers. It felt completely different from the stiff and structured waist that the corset created. This felt natural and real. He could feel the plushness of her skin beneath the cotton fabric.

Christine shivered.

Erik stepped back and swallowed his breath looking at her figure in front of him.

Christine watched him as she pushed off her drawers, shoes and shocks herself. When she stood, the fait glimmer of the candles in the room showed the outline of her natural body through the chemise. He could faintly see the pink of her nipples where they pushed on the fabric.

Her hips were wide and made her thighs look like a heart just below her curved in waist. She had a softness to her stomach and her breasts were the perfect size to make her lower half appear to have more to it. She reached a hand out to Erik who took it and followed her to her bed. She sat down first then scooted more to the middle on her knees. She was still burning but a new emotion was catching up with her that she was fighting through.

"Christine," Erik found trouble finding his words.

"I want this," Christine seemed to know his intention and shook her head, "so much."

She took a hold of his hand and gently pulled him to the bed. He soon found his own direction and placed his hands on either side of her. He found the spot on the back of her head again where he could pull her face close to his. Erik found the small of her back and pulled her down so she was suddenly laying on her back. He had his knees on either side of her one leg to prop himself up. She gasped again, which he loved, when she felt his hardness pressing against her thigh. Butterflies made their way up from her lower abdomen into her throat. She copied his earlier movements and reached up to kiss his neck. She held onto him from his strong shoulders so she could reach the spot she could feel was making him growl deep in his throat. His rough hands traced the line of her leg up to lift her chemise. His fingers passed over her stomach and moved to her breasts which were aching for his touch since a few nights prior. His face nuzzled into her hair while she began to bite in small motions on his neck. He cupped her breast and squeezed gently on her covered nipple in response. The touch was so intimate and intense that Christine thought she would be struck by lightning. Her hips moved without her thinking which elicited a guttural sound from Erik. He quickly stood and removed his trousers. Christine was oddly startled by the sight of his penis. She had seen drawings, but in person was much more intimidating. He climbed back on top of her and pulled her chemise over her head. Another growl came from him and vibrated into her bare skin where he latched his mouth onto. She gasped at the sensation of his tongue dancing over her nipples. His hands grabbed at her ass and pulled her to press against him. She could feel the stiff piece of him against the inside of her thigh and could focus on nothing else. She wanted to see it closer but didn't want to interrupt the ecstasy she was riding on.

He moved his mouth to her other breast and rocked against her. Their breath was both hectic and desperate. He found a nerve that she loved and grunted when she pushed her womanhood against him letting him feel the moisture that she was releasing for him. He trailed his hand around from her backside and pushed two fingers into her. She gasped. He could feel the hymen just at the point of his fingers and remembered reading about the pain that some women felt when it broke. Instead he removed his fingers slightly and moved his thumb around in her folds until his found a little hard spot that she whined with when he touched. He circled it once slowly which was enough for her to arch her back and push into his hand harder. He bit mildly on her nipple and began to circle the spot again while he pushed his fingers deeper into her. He kept circling while he moved his fingers. Christine was writhing beneath him. She had never imagined such sensations, she felt like she was some other being.

"Please," she stuttered it out in the midst of gasps as she grabbed a fistful of his blonde hair.

He kept his circular motions up and pushed harder against the membrane. He felt a slight pop at which point he filled her more with his fingers to message the area. She didn't seem to notice and was still pulling desperately at him.

"Please Erik."

Hearing his name come from her lips with the breath escaping her and the stench of their sex in the air drove him to a new high. He took a hold of his erection and placed it to her. The sensation of his dick meeting something so hot, wet and soft was unbearable. She moved her hands to his hips and pulled with impatience. He slowly slid himself into her. They both gasped, Erik couldn't contain himself and moved again. Christine was so stunned by the beautiful and unworldly sensation that she couldn't make any noise or motion. Erik thrusted this time which brought Christine to curl her head up to his. Their foreheads pressed together when he thrust again. He was thrusting in the perfect position to stimulate the bud of nerves he had been circling earlier. Soon he was rhythmically pushing into her. The sounds of their bodies beating against each other became Christine's new favorite song while the breaths that would get cut short by euphoria became Erik's. He clung to her body while she pulled at the golden hair on the back of his head. She began to lose her grip when she felt her body tensing towards some peak and dug her nails into the softness of his back. He grunted when he felt her entrance pulsing and her nails dig into his flesh. He lost all reason when he felt his song coming to dramatic end. The rhythm broke and he gasped into her hair as he sporadically thrust against her to the beat of an animal nature that took over his mind. She was still pulsing against him as he spilled into her. She kissed his chest and anywhere her lips could easily reach as the clenching of their muscles relaxed.

It was slow, their return to reality from nirvana. He stayed inside her and let her kiss the salty sweat from his chest and neck with her legs wrapped around him. He placed his weight on his forearms but leaned down to take a deep breath from her hair. He let the air out of his lungs like he had held it for several minutes and laid down on the bed next to her.

He was covered in sweat and laying on her quilt made him stick to it. He couldn't think of it though or anything, his mind seemed to of been turned off after he came.

Christine rolled into him. She hesitantly placed her hand on his chest. She could feel the thud of his heart as it tried to recuperate from the excitement. As she was calming down as well she was noticing how odd it was to be in their true forms, naked and bare to the air. He wasn't looking at her or anything so it seemed. He seemed to be somewhere distant she could see his eyes shift from the fantastical numb she had also just experienced to a dark tunnel dwindling deeper and deeper. She wanted him to stay where she was, with her.

"Come back to me," she put her hand on his cheek encouraging him to turn his head towards her. He regained his view of the present and found her next to him.

He put his arm underneath and around her pulling her tight to him. He breathed in the smell of her sweat and sweet perfume still lingering on her.

"I should return to my room, let you rest." He kissed her forehead.

"No," she looked up at him. "Erik, I truly want to be a couple. I want to share my bed with you."

He seemed sad to her. "As you wish."

She curled into his neck closed her eyes, she wanted to explore everything they had just done together further but she could sense he needed to be left to his thoughts. He separated from her momentarily to move them beneath the covers and pulled her back to him once again.

There was such a polarization of his feelings. He could never fathom the extent of his happiness in not only the words that Christine had shared with him but the life she was willing to share with all her heart. In his spine though he could feel the lives of the people he had killed, the free will Christine should have had from the beginning and the corruption he had instilled on not only the mindless men at the opera but on all the innocent souls and especially hers. He started to think back further, the assassinations he committed, the first time he had killed a man at the circus, the demon within him his mother had tried to have exorcised. All those souls had bound themselves to him, the weight pulled so hard at his spine he wasn't sure he could carry it.

A shiver went up his spine when Christine's delicate finger tracked up his spine to his neck then tracked back down. He could imagine her erasing it away.

She hummed. He slept.


End file.
